Secrets
by ChildrenoftheBarricade
Summary: Marius knew he was lucky to have him. But he also knew that his lover had countless secrets in his mysterious past. Little by little, though, he was going to find out everything. Marius/Enjolras, rating for non-explicit sex.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have not written in a long time, which sucks, but my last exam of the year is tomorrow and it will be a piece of cake. So I managed to get this done and the next chapter of More Special Occasions will be done by Thursday. Varied between T and M for this fic - T for the moment but might be upgraded later.**

They lay together, their bodies entwined, the covers kicked away in the heat of passion and the summer night. The older boy had fallen asleep, his golden curls soaked with sweat, his pale skin burning to the touch. No wonder they called him Apollo at school, a burning heat beneath the icy exterior.  
Marius settled beside him, soon sliding into sleep. He knew he didn't have a hope in hell with a boy like that, not normally. He'd been bitter, upset, and eager to vent his frustration. He'd noticed the looks Marius had given him, and shocked the boy when he'd invited him back to their apartment and kissed him. It was what he wanted, no doubt, but he'd never thought it could happen. He knew others like him existed, but a boy as gorgeous as him...  
When he woke in the morning, the blonde - damn, he didn't even know the boy's name - was in the kitchen, sat with a cup of coffee. He was writing, working on something, his delicate fingers stained with ink. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and Marius noticed with some alarm the ring of bruises on his wrist as if someone had grabbed him too hard. The blonde's eyes flicked up for a moment, and he noticed where Marius was looking. "A slightly overzealous friend and skin that bruises at the slightest force. Nothing to worry about."  
Was this the same boy he'd bedded last night? He thought of the blonde clinging to him, calling oaths to any deity imaginable, touching, tasting loving. He was not this, cold and formal. Was he really that embarrassed? Perhaps he was still coming to terms with himself. Either way, Marius decided that the best thing to do would be leave.  
Three weeks later, the pretty blonde was far from Marius's mind. Gabriel Courfeyrac had finally convinced him to meet some of his friends. Now he was in the noisy room at the back of a cafe, surrounded by the strangest combination of people he'd ever met. Gabriel was fidgeting in his seat, apparently still waiting for something. "What's wrong?"  
"Valentin's not here yet."  
"Valentin?"  
"Uh-huh. Valentin Enjolras." The sole heir to the largest estate in the south of France. Marius's grandfather mentioned the family on occasion, but rarely spoke of their son. He was somewhat of an enigma to the gossiping upper classes, a mixture of dignified maturity and wild passion. Clearly Gabriel wanted Marius to meet him.  
He was starting to get bored of waiting when the door opened. His jaw dropped. It was Apollo, the beautiful blonde. He met Marius's eyes for a moment, clearly recognising him, before dropping into a seat beside Gabriel. He pulled off his jacket, loosening his cravat. "Afternoon."  
"Valentin, this is Marius Pontmercy. Marius, Valentin Enjolras."  
"We met briefly a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to find out your name." Valentin was cool and calm, but Marius could feel his heart pounding. This was impossible. This boy was handsome, wealthy, intelligent, flawless. What had led him to pick up the first boy that looked at him? And how was he so able to pretend nothing had happened.  
The evening passed. Valentin seemed settled in his corner, the other side of the room, showing no signs of wanting to leave while the others drifted off in groups of two or three. Gabriel left with a pair of men who were planning on finding some young women to occupy their night. Marius decided, with nothing better to do, to wait until he was alone with Valentin. He sat in the corner, working on his coursework, accompanied by one of his friends - Julien, his name was, Julien Combeferre. He was trying to convince Valentin to go home and sleep.  
"For crying out loud, Julien, I'm fine. I'm not a child."  
"I think you need to rest."  
"I need to work. If my mind is occupied, I'm happy. I can make my own way home."  
"I don't like leaving you alone."  
"Just go home. I'll see you tomorrow." Reluctantly, Julien left. Finally, they were alone. Valentin didn't glace up, taking a sip from his wineglass. He'd had the same glass all night, Marius realised, barely drinking anything. Finally, cautiously, Marius got up and started to walk towards him.  
"Hello again," he said simply, still not looking at him. Marius froze, before sinking into a seat opposite him. "I think we're both agreed it would be easier if we never had to meet again."  
Marius remained silent, which seemed to amuse the blonde. "You're awfully quiet. You seemed a lot less shy last time we saw one another. You know Gabriel is very adept at reading people. He'll work out exactly why you're so reluctant to talk to me. If anything, I should be ignoring you."  
"You..." Was he serious? Marius had practically bedded a prince. What did Valentin have to be shy about? For a moment, Valentin looked a little melancholy, but it soon passed, and he regained that marble composure.  
"I was in an emotional pit three weeks ago, so I went looking for comfort. That's why I took you home. And you left in the morning without a single word to me."  
"What was I supposed to do? People like you..." Valentin tensed. That was clearly a phrase he'd heard far too many times, in the wrong context. It was always a danger for a deviant. What they did may be legal, but people still looked at them with disgust. Marius took a breath, and continued.  
"You know they call you Apollo at school. You're gorgeous, you're smart and talented, you've got more money tha most people could ever imagine. People like you don't end up with people like me. I thought you'd be ashamed of stooping to my level, and I decided to spare you the embarrassment."  
"You're right, I wouldn't normally go to bed so quickly with you. Normally, I've got more sense than to throw myself at anyone when I've never met them before. But I wasn't embarrassed. You shouldn't think so lowly of yourself, or so highly of me. I'm nothing special."  
"If you say so." Marius dropped his gaze. God, this was awkward. Undeniably, he was still attracted to the blonde, but he didn't want to be. He wished he could throw his affections aside, see him as just a friend of a friend. That was never going to happen, he knew it. He'd have to see him all the time, he'd never stop noticing him in classes or at the cafe. A gentle hand tilted his chin upwards, and he reluctantly met Valentin's eyes.  
"You're more important than you think."  
"So are you."  
"Then maybe we're perfectly matched." Without another word, Valentin leant forward and kissed him. Marius froze, unsure of how to react. Valentin pulled back, realising that Marius wasn't reacting. He flamed red - he even managed to blush attractively - running a hand through his hair.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He stood up, gathering up his books, picking up his jacket. Marius panicked. Walking out had been the only option he could think of for a pair of strangers, but not here. Now, trying to ignore him would be awkward, together in the same social circles, with the apparently perceptive Gabriel. It couldn't hurt them.  
Tentatively, he leant forward and returned the kiss. "My place or yours?"  
The following morning, Marius woke in an unfamiliar bed. It was certainly not his, but nor was it the bed he had shared with Valentin almost a month ago. Silken sheets caressed his skin, and he turned over to find Valentin still asleep beside him. The bed was far more comfortable than his cot at the Gorbeau tenement, his companion more agreeable than flies and rats that shared his room. Valentin confused him, Marius admitted. He was beautiful an charming, but a complete mystery. Marius knew nothing about him. He looked about fifteen, but must be older. He had this luxurious apartment and a sparse, rundown place the other side of town.  
"I don't understand you," he said softly, admiring the blonde.  
"You probably never will," Valentin mumbled softly, blinking sleepily at Marius. He was only half-awake, his arm draped across Marius's waist. Pushing the enigma to the back of his mind, Marius settled into his semi-conscious embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, so my next Jehan/Courf chapter is a fortnight overdue. It's safe to say it probably won't get written, and I'll leave that as a oneshot. I am working on something special for Barricade Day though. Until then, here's the next chapter of Secrets.**

Marius started meeting up with Valentin on a regular basis outside the café. Neither had to say a word, and they would both head to Valentin's apartment to satisfy their need for one another. Well, it was a need for Marius. He had no clue what Valentin wanted. He still knew barely anything about him.

They never spoke a word to the others. Surely they would be accepting, or most of them would. But Valentin stayed quiet, and Marius didn't know them well enough to tell them he was bedding another man. When he asked Valentin about his silence - too nervous to ask many other questions - he shrugged it off.

"My private life is private. I would not deny our relationship, but nor do I see the need to tell everyone if no-one asks."

He had learnt a few things about Valentin. For instance, he was eighteen years of age, a year older than Marius, and had left home a little after his fifteenth birthday. Marius had expected some sort of scandal, considering he left home at such a young age. In truth, he was a little disappointed.

"I was bored of Provence. I wanted to see a bit of the world before I had to settle down, so I came to Paris. I intended to go further, but I like it here. My parents are happy because my godfather's here, and they thought he can keep an eye on me."

"And has he?"

"He reports back to my parents every so often, and I know where he is if I ever need help."

There were a large number of aristocratic families, and it paid to be associated with Valentin's family. Any one of them could be Valentin's godfather. But the idea of settling down posed more questions. Could Valentin do his duty as an heir, marry some wealthy girl, sire a son? It seemed unlikely. Many women had shown an interest in him, flaunting improper amounts of flesh. He'd ever so much as glanced, fixing his attention on whatever task he was working on.

Valentin had noticed Marius's irritation in the number of unanswered questions. "It's hardly fair to complain. I know next to nothing about you either."

"That's because my story is incomprehensibly dull. Nothing of interest happens to me."

"And that's how you ended up in Paris, seventeen years old, without a friend in the world. We both have our secrets."

Marius kept quiet because he was ashamed. He was afraid Valentin would turn and run if he saw him as he was. He had nothing in the world. His clothes were worn out, his lodgings scarcely habitable. Even his ideals were hand-me-downs from his father. Perhaps Valentin believed Marius to be as well off as he was himself. If that was the case, he would not shatter the illusion.

He never invited Valentin to spend the night with him, and in turn, Valentin never spoke of the apartment they had spent their first night in. But one evening, Gabriel plied Marius with too much wine. He and Valentin were still undecided as to whether to spend the night together. Marius was drunk, and Valentin's eyes were dimmed with fatigue, but they could lie alongside each other without being intimate. Eventually, Marius tipsily asked Valentin to walk him home.

He regretted it when they arrived at the tenement. So much for not ruining the illusion. But he couldn't send him home, turning him away in the cold, dark winter night. That would just be cruel. Reluctantly, he stood aside and let Valentin in.

To his credit, he didn't say a word, either too tired or too polite to comment on the dilapidated apartment. He stripped off - an unwise decision, considering the icy breezes howling through the walls - and sank onto the bed. It was scarcely large enough for two, but Marius and Valentin were just small and slim enough to fit together comfortably

Marius retained a little more of his clothing, prepared for the cold night, and slid into the bed. He pulled the ribbon out of Valentin's hair, unraveling the braid that he never got round to cutting. Most of the Amis admitted they couldn't imagine him with his hair any shorter now. Valentin fell asleep quickly, though his sleep was apparently restless. Marius quickly followed him into unconsciousness.

Morning came, and with it, an empty bed. Valentin was sat in the battered old wooden chair by the windowsill. He was dressed in nothing but his shirt, unbuttoned to his navel, shivering in the cool air. "Either get dressed or come back to bed. You'll catch your death."

"I'm fine." Marius sighed, getting up and pulling Valentin back towards the bed. His skin was ice-cold, but he genuinely didn't seem to notice. Marius kissed his cheek, hugging him close.

"Let's play a little game. I'm going to ask you questions, and for every bad answer you give me, you have to buy me a drink. And vice versa."

"Alright. Ask your questions."

Marius hesitated. If he pressed too far in his first question, Valentin would refuse to play along. First, he had to lull him into a false sense of security. He gave Valentin a teasing kiss. "Am I your first?"

Valentin thought for a moment, and Marius wondered if he was debating on whether to lie or not. "You tell me. What do you think?"

Marius thought. He didn't have much to compare his nights with Valentin to. He had no doubt that someone like Gabriel Courfeyrac might be able to do more to satisfy him, if he was that way inclined, but Gabriel's promiscuous nature was notorious. Being less experienced than him did not necessarily mark Valentin as a virgin. Besides, he was far more graceful and confident than Marius's inexperienced fumblings. "No. There's been someone else."

"True. I was young and stupid, and believed myself in love." For a moment, he looked wistful, but it passed. "That was a long time ago. And you?"

"I told you, nothing interesting ever happens to me, not until you came into my life. You're my first. My first kiss, however, was with one of my grandfather's servants in the pantry. We were pretty young, and he was the only one who understood."

Valentin laughed, and Marius looked offended. "I wasn't laughing at you," he promised. "I was remembering my first kiss. I was little, we just thought you kissed someone you liked. We didn't understand the implications."

"Who?"

"Julien Combeferre. Our parents were close friends, they were always at the house. They caught us." Marius tried to picture a young Valentin, caught kissing his childhood friend, an innocent mistake. He couldn't do it though. He couldn't imagine Valentin as a child, tiny and rosy cheeked. Nor could he imagine him any older, as a man, having left the law school, becoming a real adult. Valentin seemed to exist entirely in the present, caught in a perfect moment somewhere between innocence and maturity. No wonder they called him Apollo, a young god with the wisdom of ages.

Valentin fell silent for a moment, resting his head against Marius's chest. "I'm supposed to go to my godfather's for dinner tomorrow. It's sure to be a nightmare. Will you come with me?"

"Me?"

"Please. My father's parents died when he was young. Uncle André was a friend of my grandfather's, and he took my father in. Now his protégé has grown up and flown the nest, he's a bitter old man. I can't deal with him."

"I'll come with you, if you tell me who the man you fell in love with was."

"Marius..."

"Just his first name. What harm will it do?"

"What does it matter? It was a long time ago, and I've grown up since then."

"I'm curious."

"Alright. If I get through tomorrow in one piece, I'll tell you his name."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A belated bon Quatorze Juillet! I was away at a French summer school for Bastille Day, hence the belated chapter. I really need to write more regularly. I'll try and come up with a (very late) Bastille Day one shot this week since that seems to be my special occasions theme this year. Enjoy!**

The nearer they got to the grand old house, the more nervous Valentin became. He'd been fretting, Marius knew, all day, to the point that Combeferre believed he was coming down with something. No, he just really didn't want to visit his godfather.

Marius recognised the house. Well, no, not exactly, but he recognised the air around it. It reminded him of his grandfather's house, and he got the idea that Valentin's godfather would be a traditional aristocrat. No wonder he was nervous - surely a man like that wouldn't approve of a budding revolutionary. It worried Marius all the same. Valentin was supposed to be strong.

"What's the matter?"

"No matter what I say to him today, he'll ridicule me. I'm trying to change the world. Just once, I wish he'd show me the same respect he showed my father."

When he came to knock on the door, he seemed to get a little courage back, steeling himself. A young woman, presumably André's maid, answered the door, allowing them entrance. They were led into the dining room where a tall, broad man sat at the table, his tawny lion's mane streaked with grey. A cane sat beside his chair, but Valentin warned Marius beforehand not to mistake it for weakness. It was an old war wound, apparently, and it was a miracle that he could walk at all.

"Uncle André?" Valentin called tentatively. "This is Marius Pontmercy."

"And what?"

"He's important to me. I thought you should meet him." He sat at the table, pulling Marius into the seat beside him. Was Valentin really this desperate for his approval? In a matter of seconds, he'd turned into a meek, shy child.

André snorted. "Important? So you've one again been seduced by some random fool. At least, by the look of this idiot, he's not going to vanish and leave you wanting. I bet if he came back now, you'd still beg him for more."

"How...?" Valentin was bright red, fiddling with his napkin.

"How did I know he was making a woman of you? You weren't subtle. But you weren't lovers, you were a master and his dog. You're a pathetic boy. You spend your life revelling in luxury you don't deserve."

As far as Marius was aware, Valentin had not chosen his life. The comfortable apartment had been bought for him by his parents when he decided to stay in Paris. He ate well because Julien constantly lectured him about not eating enough. Gabriel demanded on regular occasion that he buy new clothing - Marius had seen him physically pull Valentin into tailors' on at least two occasions. Valentin could lead the group in political matters, but otherwise, he was a slave to the whims of others.

"Your father should have cut you off a long time ago, you spoilt brat. You're a disgrace."

"That is enough!" Valentin got to his feet. "I've tried for years to impress you. I come here every two months, for my parent's sake and I thought just once, once in three years, you might have something nice to say. I always showed you the utmost respect, because my father told me that you were a great man. But you're just a bitter old aristo, hiding away in his dark old mansion rather than facing the world. I tried so hard to love you the way my father did, and I was stupidenough to think you'd love me the way you loved him. Clearly I was wrong."

"Why should I give a damn about such an ungrateful brat? The only time your father writes to me is to find out how his precious little boy is doing."

"Marius, this was a mistake. We should go." Valentin went to leave, his anger deflating into melancholy. In his passionate anger, he had misheard his godfather's words, believing them to be another hurtful insult directed at him. But Marius wasn't sure. What did Valentin's father have to do with it? André was punishing Valentin because his father had left and never looked back. He had little time for his adoptive father anymore. And as a result, Valentin was paying the price.

"Hold on a minute."

"Marius, don't. Let's just go."

"One minute. That's all I want."

"How do you know he'll listen?"

"I don't. Wait here." He opened the door, not waiting to be invited in. André was still in the dining room, eating the meal he was supposed to share with his godson. He glanced up, taking a sip from his wine glass.

"You're braver than you look. Not as brave as his last lover, nor as interesting, but not as pathetic as I believed. Regardless, you shouldn't be here. Leave, or I'll have you detained."

"Hear me out, please. I know this is about Valentin's father."

"You don't know anything. He's never so much as mentioned your name before, and the friends he consistently talks about know nothing."

"You're lashing out at him because his father doesn't care. That's unfair."

"Perhaps, but life is unfair. Besides, the apple never falls far from the tree. Richard never looked back once he found something better. Do you think Valentin will stay loyal if one of his devoted, lifelong friends offered to take your place?"

"Yes. He's a better man than you give him credit for, and everything he does is to make others happy."

"Let's say you're right... Matthieu?"

"Marius."

"Well, Marius, let's assume for the sake of this conversation that you're right, that Valentin is a perfect, flawless human. Have you ever loved anyone?"

"I love him." He wasn't really sure that he did, not yet. They had known each other only a short while. There was too much between them, too many unanswered questions in the air. But that didn't matter.

"Well, lucky you. You have the naivety of youth on your side. Valentin accommodates his friends out of weakness, not kindness. But you are in the blissfully ignorant state of your relationship, your love as unconditional as a parent and child. So, naive boy, what would you do if you lost him?"

"I..." What would he do? It would hurt, surely. But did he have much to go on? The death pf his father had been a shock, but again, he hadn't known him well enough to love him. André picked up on his hesitation.

"Let me tell you, boy. To lose a love is the most painful thing you will ever experience. Most pain will fade,but when a broken heart starts to heal, there is always something to tear it apart again."

"What would you know?"

"I was once a naive young man myself, and I am still paying the price for that myself. I must have been twenty-five when the man I loved as a brother and his lovely wife were taken by the same sickness. They left behind an infant. I took him in rather than see my dearest friend's son as a foundling. I raised him, loved him as he would my own son. He grew up, married, had a child. But as time went by, he grew further and further away. He stopped caring about me. He ignored me. That destroyed me. And I'll be damned if I give his brat a chance to do the same."

Marius wanted to pity the lonely old man, but he couldn't bring himself to sympathise with him. He might be avoiding his own pain, but that was selfish if he had to hurt Valentin to do it. Wasn't love meant to be about sacrifice, taking the pain so the one you love didn't have to?

"I admit, I don't know Valentin's father. But I know him. And you've seriously underestimated him. I hope you realise pushing him away is your loss."

Marius left to find Valentin sat on the steps, head in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. I should probably write to my father, tell him what happened. Or maybe I should apologise."

"No. You're better than that." Suffering his bitter godfather to please his father - that was because he loved his father, wasn't it? He worked hard to keep people happy because he liked to see them happy, not because he couldn't stand up for himself. If he told his friends 'no', they'd respect him, but be disappointed. That was not weakness, Marius decided, that was love. He wanted to make them happy, so he put up with Gabriel's inane chatter, Julien's constant fussing, Adrien Grantaire's drunken melancholy.

Marius sat on the steps beside him. "I hope one day I can love as easily as you. Anyone who calls you marble has no idea."

"Alexei," he said softly.

"Sorry?"

"A deal is a deal. The first man I loved, his name was Alexei. And André's right, I was a naive fool. I did anything he asked of me because I mistook lust for true love. He was handsome, but I see now that I never really loved him. He vanished about a year ago - the apartment I took you to that first time was his. Every couple of months he shows up back in Paris, expects me to be waiting. That's why I slept with you the first time, because he'd just come back and I wanted to prove I wasn't his anymore."

Marius thought of their first meeting, the ring of livid bruises on his wrist. "Did he ever hit you?"

Valentin shook his head, understanding. "I went to walk out, he caught hold of me. I just bruise very easily. Julien was convinced he was beating me, and he hates leaving me on my own, afraid Alexei will turn up and beat me to death. I don't have the heart to tell him the bruises he's seen over the years are just collateral damage from..." He blushed, biting his lip. "Well, from the bedroom."

"Where is he now?"

"Gone. I don't know. Maybe prison, maybe somewhere else. I can't promise I'll never see him again. But that's enough. I promised you a name, no more. Come on. Let's go get a drink."

Marius agreed, following him to the cafe. After that much information in one day, he needed a stiff drink.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, mes amis, I'm devoting more effort into Secrets than I am to Les Amis for a while. Why? Frankly, because more people are reading this, so I'm gonna push ahead. To anyone who is reading this, and not Les Amis, a belated happy Bastille Day and my apolgies for being away for so long. (Wow, this is scarily like my last A/N for this fic)**

**Well, I interrupt Les Mis to bring you Cats! Well, not exactly. But there are cats in this chapter. One last chapter of fluff before I start getting angsty. Enjoy!**

Marius had long since settled into his relationship with Valentin when Gabriel Courfeyrac started to talk to him about cats. They were out together one afternoon, heading to meet a girl Gabriel knew - he promised that he knew her only in passing, and there would be no awkwardness for Marius.

"Why are we going to see this girl?"

"I want to get Valentin a cat." Marius was silent, unsure what to say. "Well, it's 'Ferre's idea originally. This girl has a mouser, but she's just had a litter. I thought we could take one of the kittens off of her hands."

"Why?" It was all he could manage. He was somewhat accustomed to the strangeness of his group of friends by now, but occasionally, they still surprised him. Like now.

"You've heard 'Ferre lecture Valentin, right? He doesn't look after himself properly, et cetera. Well, Julien thought that if Valentin had something depending on him for food and care, he'd remember to feed and care for himself. Oh, the cat needs food - on a related note, I haven't eaten in a while. You get the idea? He's not so absent-minded as to completely neglect a dependant life." He paused for a moment.

"Just to be on the safe side, we have told the woman living downstairs about this, so that if she sees the poor creature looking a little too thin, she'll feed him."

"Are you talking about Valentin or the cat?"

"My, Marius, you have a sense of humour after all. I was starting to worry."

"Alright, so if this is Julien Combeferre's idea, why are you here instead of him?"

"Well, I jumped on the idea. Valentin needs something to share his love with. I mean, he loves his precious Patria, no doubt, but he needs something tangible. Something to hold." Marius flamed red. If only he knew.

"His devotion is all very well and good, but patriotism won't keep his bed warm at night. He's never going to wake up and find his Patria on the pillow beside him." Marius felt his blush deepen with every word. Gabriel glanced over at him, took in his scarlet cheeks, and burst out laughing.

"I'm teasing you, Marius. I know."

"Know what?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. I know full well that he has someone to keep his bed warm. I see the way you two look at one another, and even if he hadn't admitted it to me, the look on your face..." His laughter died, and he looked pensive for a moment. "I'm still getting the cat."

"That... that's all you have to say? A taunt, and nothing more?"

"What did you expect?"

"Confusion? Disgust? Anger?"

"Why? Any man, other than Julien, who questions Valentin's judgement is proved wrong, and Julien is content to let this one slide without contesting it. We trust you, and we trust him. I mean, expect painful revenge if you hurt him, but otherwise, knock yourselves out."

The threat was made lightly, in Gabriel's usual nonchalant tone, but Marius didn't doubt he would act on that threat. The dandy had an uncanny ability to predict Marius's train of thought - maybe he was just easy to read - and Gabriel gave a half-smile. "Do you have any siblings?"

Oh. Maybe he didn't know what Marius was thinking. The change in conversation startled him, and he had to try and remember for a moment.

"No."

"Well, I do. Two older brothers. Bear with me, there is a point to this. They were a nightmare, and I was furious that my parents stopped at three, because it meant I didn't have a younger sibling to be a nightmare to. I got through it all, and went to boarding school, and that's where I met Valentin. And suddenly I got the little brother I never had. Granted, I was never so sharp-tongued with my brothers, but he was mine to torment and torture, and mine alone. You can torment your own siblings, but you can't let anyone else hurt them."

His tone lightened again. "Of course, Valentin has Julien to protect him from himself, and a whole crowd of us that will fight for the cause he represents. But he's still the nearest thing I have to a little brother, so I'll keep trying my best to be a big brother. We are closer than any two friends you will ever meet."

Marius had heard Gabriel made that claim on many an occasion, and had one day decided to test its validity. While at Valentin's apartment, he'd questioned him on who he considered to be his closest, most trusted friend. He'd initially laughed off the question as juvenile. Children had 'best friends'. He saw and appreciated the strengths and flaws of all of his friends.

"That's not a proper answer. You owe me a drink."

"Are you still playing that damned game?" It reappeared every few weeks when Marius couldn't get a straight answer out of him. Valentin wasn't anywhere near as inquisitive, and didn't want to press on the questions he did ask. "Fine. Julien or Gabriel, I suppose."

He caught sight of Marius's expression. "You cannot ask me to pick between them. They have been at my side for years longer than the rest of you, they're practically family."

"Do I not make your shortlist?"

"You?" He laughed, but it was not a cruel laugh. It was genuine and it made Marius happy just to hear it. His words were teasing, not malicious. "Best friend? You are my worst nightmare, the argumentative imperialist who's caused trouble since day one. I don't know why I put up with you."

He joked, but there was an unspoken rule that politics were never seriously mentioned when they were alone together. It had taken time, but Marius understood the distinction between the man and the idol that the Amis needed at times. The marble leader was merely a figurehead, disguising the remarkably human young man behind it.

"What about you?" Gabriel's voice interrupted him from his reverie. "You must have come from somewhere. You must have family."

"A grandfather, but our bridges were burnt. I refused to renounce my father's beliefs. He wasn't happy, and I left."

"Idiot," he said fondly. "I mean, ideals are all very well and good, but they don't keep a roof over your head."

"I work for everything I have, and that's the way it should be."

"It's a noble effort, I admit, but even Valentin accepts the financial support of his parents."

"He has a revolution to run." He did not have the time to attend school, plan his revolution and earn enough to live on, and Marius wouldn't judge him for that. Their circumstances were different, and Valentin was stubborn, but not stupid. He needed his parent's support and he wasn't going to ruin his relationship with them unnecessarily. "Besides, I have all the family I need. I have him. I have you. I have at least some of your friends. That's enough, isn't it?"

"I suppose. But remember, you only have them as long as you don't hurt him."

"Gabriel, how many people know about us?" Gabriel gave him a grin, unashamed.

"A few. Julien definitely does. Relax, they can be trusted. Even if they don't trust you - in my defence, you're an imperialist with distinctly royalist blood - they will take Valentin's secret to the grave. But remember, they are more loyal to him than they will ever be to you."

"I know, I know. I promise, I will never hurt him."

**A/N: So, it's been exactly a year since I posted the last chapter. Oops. I promise it won't be as long before I post the next one, and Marius will start to get some secrets of his own.**


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